


When She Fell From the Sky

by mandosmistress



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Biting, But After Mando Was With Ran’s Crew, Canon-Typical Violence, Creampie, Cum Play, Dirty Talk, Dom Mando, F/M, He just goes by Mando, Helmet Comes Off in the Dark, I Make Up Planets, Injury and Treatment, Male Masturbation, Mando Has Trust Issues, Mando isn't that much of a jerk here I'm just trying to cover all the bases, Medicinal Drug Use, No one knows his name is Din until S1E8 so I didn’t use it, OC is a POC - Freeform, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Pre-Season 1, Rough Sex, Slightly Jealous Mando, Slightly Overprotective Mando, Slightly Possessive Mando, So Non Canon Star Wars Geography, Sorry No Grogu, Spanking, Tiny Harry Potter Easter Egg, Top Mando, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it IRL), Vaginal Fingering, Vehicle Crash, Voice Kink, Wall Sex, description of a panic attack, injection, minor alcohol use, oral sex female receiving, razor crest, spitting, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandosmistress/pseuds/mandosmistress
Summary: The Mandalorian stared silently down at her. After a long moment, he turned and gazed at the remains of her Comet 260. A heap of charred and mangled metal lay at the base of a large rock formation, the face of which was riddled with large gouges and black smoke stains. Clearly, Prax was very lucky to have survived the crash.“Guess you’re coming with me. Your ship’s a lost cause,” the Mandalorian said gruffly.Prax was startled by his low, raspy tone. She had never heard a voice like his. Was it the modulator in his helmet that caused the rough edge and deep pitch of his voice? It couldn’t all be the vocoder. Maker, that voice...it did something to her. Something that made her face burn and her stomach swoop.She assumed that upon meeting him, most people wondered what the Mandalorian looked like under his helmet. Prax wondered what he sounded like without a filter.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Mando/Original Female Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. The Pilot

A high pitched, blaring alarm sounded, accompanied by a flashing red light on the dashboard. It was an unfamiliar alert, one the Mandalorian had never heard his ship make in all the time that he’d had it. He was halfway to deciding that the alarm was yet another malfunctioning sensor, when a woman’s voice began to crackle over the comm. 

“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Comet 260RAB. My ship has crash landed and is unrepairable. I am stranded in a desert climate with very little water left. I require assistance immediately. I’m not going to make it much longer without help.”

The Mandalorian set his scanners to check the area for any other ships that might also have received the emergency alert. He picked up none. According to his nav database, the arid planet that the signal was emanating from was Katal, a small, uninhabited sphere of rock, sand and not much else. 

He did what he always did - he sighed heavily. Then the Mandalorian flicked on his comm and spoke.

“Comet 260, this is Razor Crest. I have received your distress signal and am locked in to your coordinates. Stand by for assist.”

After a long pause came the simple reply, “Copy that, Razor Crest.”

The Mandalorian was not totally opposed to helping someone in distress. He would just really have preferred not to. He had enough problems of his own and he didn’t care to add more to that long list. 

However, there was no one else, either on the planet’s surface or in the hyper lane or sub light routes nearby, who could respond. Although he was loath to get involved, he knew it would be deeply dishonorable to ignore a fellow pilot in a life threatening situation.

Aiding this pilot sounded, at best, like a time consuming ordeal. He was on a tight schedule as it was, with his last bounty having led him on a lengthy and frustrating jaunt through the cesspool that was Nar Shada’s underworld. It had taken him a week to catch the scumbag when he had thought it would be a quick day’s work. There were 3 more bounties to catch and he was due back in Navarro in 15 standard days. 

The Mandalorian hoped that the pilot was overstating the amount of damage sustained by her ship. He had assorted parts and materials, as well as a wide range of tools, in his cargo hold. Perhaps they could get her ship up and running. Helping her repair her ship, while it would take up valuable time he did not have, was preferable to having her come aboard the Razor Crest to catch a ride to Maker knows where. 

He hated having people on his ship, especially if it was someone he knew nothing about. He did not trust strangers. Kriff, he didn’t trust his acquaintances either. He was alert to the possibility that a stranger on his ship could commit any number of nefarious acts. She could stab him in his sleep. Or try to remove his helmet. She could hijack his ship. She could rob him of his weapons or credits. All in all, there were far too many bad outcomes possible and no good ones.

As the landing cycle brought him in close enough for a view of the ship below, he studied the wreckage with annoyance. The pilot had been correct. The mess of metal below was far beyond repair. She would need a ride. And he was going to have to be the kriffing taxi service. He muttered curses in a variety of languages and rose from his seat, his fists clenched in irritation.


	2. The Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Prax, our heroine. She meets Mando.

Outside, Prax stumbled out of the remains of her Comet 260 as the unfamiliar starship came in for landing. Thank the Maker - she hadn’t actually been delirious enough from the heat to hallucinate that reply over the comm. An overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her. If she hadn’t been so dehydrated, she would have cried. She’d thought that this barren wasteland would be her tomb. 

The Razor Crest landed in a swirl of dirt and sand. Showing its age, the pre-Imperial gunship creaked and groaned as its engines shut down. Her ship was now a wreck, but, honestly, this one didn’t look to be in much better shape. Not that she was going to complain. As long as the thing could fly, it was the best looking ship in the galaxy to her right now.

After a moment, the ramp descended and hit the ground with a clunk. The figure that emerged wore battered rust red armor and held a very long and dangerous looking rifle across one forearm. Was that...was that a Mandalorian? She had heard rumors that there were none left. She had also heard that they were the fiercest and most deadly warriors in the galaxy. So not exactly the rescuing type. Yet here one was.

The Mandalorian strode up to her with a decisive gait. The visor of his helmet tilted down at her and the silence lasted a beat too long. At last, he wordlessly handed her a canteen of water. She took it gratefully and immediately gulped it down. When she’d finally had her fill of water, Prax sighed contentedly and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The imposing Mandalorian was a bit unnerving, but she didn’t sense any real animosity from him. 

Raising a hand to shield her eyes from the unrelenting sun, Prax looked straight up into his visor as she spoke. “Thank you so much for your help. For responding to my distress call. I...I didn’t think there was anyone in range.” She said this without lingering too long over the implied outcome of such a scenario. She had spent enough time over the last few days resigning herself to death. There was no need to contemplate it anymore. 

The Mandalorian stared silently down at her. After a long moment, he turned and gazed at the remains of her Comet 260. A heap of charred and mangled metal lay at the base of a large rock formation, the face of which was riddled with large gouges and black smoke stains. Clearly, Prax was very lucky to have survived the crash.

“Guess you’re coming with me. Your ship’s a lost cause,” the Mandalorian said gruffly.

Prax was startled by his low, raspy tone. She had never heard a voice like his. Was it the modulator in his helmet that caused the rough edge and deep pitch of his voice? It couldn’t all be the vocoder. Maker, that voice...it did something to her. Something that made her face burn and her stomach swoop.

She assumed that upon meeting him, most people wondered what the Mandalorian looked like under his helmet. Prax wondered what he sounded like without a filter.

Despite the canteen of water, Prax found that her mouth was dry again. She cleared her throat in an effort to focus on their conversation. “Yes, there’s only one way off this Maker forsaken planet and it’s you. I’m very lucky that you’re here. You’re...you’re saving my life.” Prax paused, but there was no reply. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement. Usually thanking someone for saving your life warrants some kind of response. 

At last, he gave her the slightest of nods.

She continued tentatively, “Well, I already salvaged what I could of my things. I’ll go grab my bag.” Prax didn’t mention it of course, but thankfully, she had been able to recover the most valuable item on board. Once she had found it in the wreckage, she’d carefully zipped it into a hidden pocket inside of her duffel bag. Most of her other belongings had been damaged in the crash. 

She spared a final heartbroken glance of what remained of the Comet’s hull. It was the only home she’d known for the last decade. She would now have to depend on someone else for transportation until she could save up for a new ship. In her line of work, this was a major blow. Despite all this, she was grateful to be walking away from this interlude with her life and therefore she refused to dwell too much on what she had lost. 

After laboriously heaving her duffel bag slightly off the ground, she turned to find the Mandalorian right there. She stifled a small surprised gasp. How did he move so quietly? She wasn’t the easiest person to sneak up on. Prax had learned long ago that being unaware of her surroundings was a luxury she could not afford. Her mind was hazy with pain and exhaustion from this whole ordeal though. That must be the reason for her inattentiveness.

His visor was trained right on her. She was too busy looking into the opaque glass that hid his eyes to notice him reach towards her. Her green eyes narrowed in confusion when she finally saw his outstretched hand. Did he...did he want to hold her hand? How bizarre. What was he doing?

“Your bag,” he said impatiently.

“Oh. Uh, thanks, but it’s ok, I can manage.” Prax stammered. She chastised herself. Hold her hand? Honestly. As if Mandalorians go around holding random people’s hands.

“You’re hurt. I’ll carry it.” His tone did not brook argument. It also implied that her nonsensical resistance was wasting valuable time. His valuable time.

As if to prove his point, she winced from the pain in her ribs as she handed the bag to him. The Mandalorian was right, but it was hard for her to part with her things, even temporarily. After grabbing her only luggage, he walked briskly towards the ramp of his ship. Prax tried to keep up but the discomfort from her injuries made this impossible. She huffed in annoyance as she watched him climb his ship’s ramp without a backwards glance. Then he disappeared into the hull of his ship with a snap of his cloak. 

“Ok then. Well, not the warmest welcome aboard I’ve ever had,” Prax muttered to herself. She reminded herself that he was saving her life by giving her a ride out of this hellscape. So, she decided to write his brusque manner off as being due to the inconvenience of an unscheduled stop or the unwanted company of a surprise passenger. Or maybe it was a Mandalorian thing. 

Prax climbed into the ship and looked around. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the cargo area. A carbon freezing unit in the corner caught her eye. Ah, a bounty hunter then. An appropriate career for a Mandalorian. Worrisome for her though. However, she only had two choices. Either take her chances on the possibility of there being a bounty on her head and him finding out, or the alternative. Which was death by dehydration and/or hyperthermia. Yes, she was definitely going to choose the bounty hunter. 

Prax continued her appraisal of the ship’s interior. With relief, she noticed her large canvas bag had been placed on the floor in one of the corners. Nearby, there were several large crates tied down to the deck. A large cabinet that locked with a keypad was mounted on one wall. Prax saw an enclosed cot further back. The sleeping area looked spartan to say the least. What kind of person doesn’t even have a pillow? Maybe Mandalorians are so tough that they didn’t need them? If he shared his cot with anyone, wouldn’t they protest the lack of a pillow?

“Up here.”

His deep voice interrupted her pillow related ruminations. Which was good, because at the thought of the Mandalorian sharing his bed with someone, she had felt a small pang of...jealousy? That made no sense. Clearly, he could share his cot and nonexistent pillows with whomever he pleased.

Prax spotted a ladder towards the back of the cargo hold and gingerly made her way up. Up in the cockpit, the Mandalorian was already doing the pre-flight check. She scurried over to the passenger seat and strapped herself in to prepare for take off.


	3. The Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando only wants to take Prax to the first stop on the route. Then they agree on a plan that works for both of them. Mando helps Prax recover from the mental and physical effects of her crash. Prax really likes Mando’s gloves, whether they’re on or off.

The Mandalorian turned to her and matter of factly said, “Give me your blaster. And that vibroblade.”

“What? You can’t have my -“

“I don’t want to keep them. I’ll hold on to them while you’re on my ship. Passengers don’t get weapons.”

She stared at him. Was he for real? Did he think she was going to cut his throat while he slept? Actually, that is probably exactly what he thinks. It must be exhausting, never trusting anyone or letting your guard down.

Giving up her weapons made her slightly nervous. Then she realized that she didn’t need the protection. She was travelling with a kriffing Mandalorian. And as far as protection from him went...her blaster, vibroblade, and mediocre skills with weaponry would hardly give him pause if he really wanted to hurt or kill her. She would have been dead within seconds of his Razor Crest’s bay door opening if that had been his objective. Silently, Prax unholstered her blaster and handed it to him, grip first. Her vibroblade followed. The Mandalorian stashed the weapons at his side and swiveled his chair around until he faced front. 

Prax watched him make a few adjustments and then pull back on the throttle to take off. Suddenly, she realized he hadn’t asked her where she wanted to be dropped off. He didn’t seem open to conversation at the moment, so she decided to wait until he was on autopilot. Maker, he really exuded that brooding loner vibe. The lack of visible facial features made this quality even more intimidating. The strong and silent type routine was intriguing but not ideal in someone she actually needed to talk to. 

He saved her the trouble of initiating a conversation by announcing, “I’ll drop you off at the next space station to catch a transport.”

“Oh. Um, actually...I do have a few credits but not enough for passage to the Core Worlds,” Prax admitted reluctantly.

There was a long pause. The Mandalorian turned his seat to face her and gazed at her long enough that Prax found it disconcerting. “Which planet?”

“Coruscant. Once I get there, I’ll have more credits. I can pay you for the fuel.” 

Prax shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she waited for his reply. Finally, the Mandalorian shook his head.

“That’s a long trip. I’m not headed that way.” he said flatly.

Prax felt her heart sink. “Oh. Well, I understand. The space station is fine then. I’ll figure something out.” She plastered on a bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Silence fell between them. Prax swiftly looked away from the Mandalorian to search the stars for an answer to her predicament. Anxiety was slowly building up within her until it swirled violently inside her stomach. Her breaths grew shallow as she realized how limited her prospects were as a creditless traveller trapped on a backwater space station. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried in vain to push down the panic building in her chest.

“Your pulse is racing,” His low, husky voice cut through her agitation. Prax jerked her head around to stare at him. 

“How the kriff would you know?” she snapped. 

“Am I wrong?” He tilted his head slightly. 

Prax shrugged and stared back at him wordlessly, frustrated by his inexplicable knowledge of her current cardiac status. Couldn’t he just have the decency to leave her alone right now?

“Helmet has a vital sign scanner built in,” he informed her. 

Prax nodded and blinked her eyes furiously to dispel the tears that had inexplicably started to well up. She quickly turned away from the Mandalorian’s unflinching gaze. Her panicked thoughts were screaming at her from within her mind. What was she going to do? She had nothing and no one to fall back on for help. She was alone in the wilds of the Outer Rim with barely a credit to her name. What if she never made it home?

She jumped when she felt the Mandalorian hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, just...just breathe. Breathe in and out. Slowly.”

Being comforted by a Mandalorian was not something she would ever have considered to be a possible occurrence in her life. And she sensed that it was something he definitely didn’t do often. Somehow, that made it more meaningful. Prax closed her eyes and deliberately slowed down her breathing. 

He took his hand away too soon.

After a few minutes, Prax had grown calm. The Mandalorian was tapping his gloved fingers contemplatively on the armrest of his chair. He cleared his throat awkwardly and then started to speak, his head cocked in her direction.

“Ok, look. I can’t go straight to Coruscant. I need to collect some bounties and then drop them off in Navarro first,” he declared gruffly. 

The relief shone on Prax’s face. “Oh, stars! Really? Sure, that’s all fine, of course. It’s great, actually. Kriff, thank you so -”

He waved away her appreciation with a flick of his hand and interrupted her excited babble. “And it’s the cost of fuel times four. For my time, food, and whatever else,” he added.

Pax quickly nodded in agreement and flashed him a genuine smile this time. She was so kriffing relieved. Beyond relieved really. 

Her crashed ship, her brush with death. The thought of being stranded with no way to get home had been the breaking point. It had all suddenly threatened to pull her under. She had always thought of herself as a strong person, but everyone has their limit.

The Mandalorian abruptly turned his chair forward as the signal indicating readiness for hyperspace jump chirped. After double checking his settings and coordinates, he executed a smooth jump into the blurred starscape of hyperspace. Prax found herself appreciating the practiced ease with which he piloted. His gloved fingers flicked switches and pressed buttons without stopping to consciously think which did what. She wondered wickedly if his fingers were that sure during other activities as well. Prax flushed and, as if he could read her thoughts, quickly turned away from the Mandalorian.

After they settled into the quiet of hyperspace, Prax worked up the nerve to ask, “Um, do you happen to have an extra medpak?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, great. Is it ok if I use your shower first to clean up these cuts and scrapes?”.

Without looking away from the star chart he was examining, the Mandalorian nodded and jerked his head towards the ladder. Prax concluded that refresher must be down below.

In the tiny refresher, Prax slowly peeled off her filthy garments. There were several areas where the blood from her injuries had adhered the fabric to her skin, so undressing was a lengthy and painful ordeal. She distracted herself from the discomfort by gazing around the room. Everything was austere in here as well. Two white towels were in the cabinet under the sink. There was a single razor, a toothbrush, and a cup there too. One bar of white soap sat in the shower. That was pretty much it beyond the necessary fixtures. She was actually surprised that there was a small mirror over the sink. She was surprised that he didn’t view such a thing as an unnecessary luxury, she thought with a smile.

Prax noticed a slim comb she had overlooked on the shelf. So he had hair. That was good. Wait, why did it matter to her? 

Who was she kidding? She had been on board for all of an hour and was already developing a serious longing for her masked rescuer. And she wasn’t even totally sure that he was a human under all that armor. Prax reasoned that she was probably just enamored by the attractiveness of his hands. And that deliciously deep voice and those broad shoulders. She shook her head and got into the shower. Evidently, she needed one to clear her mind as much as to clean her body.

She reveled in the hot water, even though it made the scrapes and cuts on her skin sting. It hurt worse when she started to lather on the soap. Prax was surprised it wasn’t unscented soap. She had assumed it would be no frills like everything else in the ship. Instead, the soap actually had a very nice fragrance. Not too strong, masculine in a fresh sort of way. Citrus and...bergamot? Maybe mint too? Was this what the Mandalorian smelled like under all those layers? It probably smelled even better on his skin. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply at the thought.

After dressing in clean clothes and towel drying her hair, Prax went to the base of the ladder. 

“Um, Mandalorian? Ready for that medpack now,” she called up. In that moment, Prax realized that she didn’t even know his name.

He came sliding down the ladder, not bothering to use the rungs, and landed with surprising grace. Prax noticed that he was still wearing his helmet. Did he not take it off? She tried to remember what else she knew of Mandalorians and vaguely recalled that they wore their body armor all of the time. And some never took off their helmets because their religion dictated that no one could look at their faces. Well, that was a shame. She would respect his Creed of course, and she found his dedication to his religion admirable, but a selfish part of her was disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see what he looked like under his helm.

The Mandalorian strode past her without a glance and started to dig around in one of the wooden crates in the cargo area. Soon, he resurfaced holding the red and white pouch. He looked at her, jerked his head towards the ground, and folded his arms expectantly.

Prax was confused about what he was waiting for. After a moment she realized he wanted her to come over there and sit on the crate. She walked over, trying not to rush to make up for the lag he had caused with his lack of verbal direction. Prax had never met anyone so hard to read. Honestly, she had met Kitonaks who were more expressive.

“Thanks. I can get it from here,” she said as she walked up to him.

He sighed. Sighing seemed to be his preferred mode of communication.“You were just in a major crash. You shouldn’t try to assess and treat your injuries by yourself.”

Prax conceded her loss and sat down on a closed crate. She then remembered her question from earlier. “What is your name? I can’t believe I forgot to ask.”

After his trademark pause, he replied, “Mando.”

“But that’s not really your name.”

“Nope.”

She frowned slightly. “Ok. Well then. Mando it is. I’m Prax.” 

Prax left off her last name so she could retain an air of mystery too. Two could play at that game. And there was also that possibility of a bounty on her head. He couldn’t run her chain code without a surname.

“Any large wounds to close up?” Mando began.

Prax was not at all surprised that he got straight to business.“No, amazingly enough.”

“Ok, we’ll start with your head. Can I touch you?” he asked briskly. 

Prax nodded. Mando knelt in front of her. He gently held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her face this way and that. His touch was clinical but it still sent a shiver down her spine. Prax knew he was looking at the dark bruising from forehead to jaw on the left side of her face. His visor stared into her eyes as he raised an index finger and asked her to follow it with her gaze, up and down and side to side.

As if thoroughly considering something, Mando paused for a long moment and then removed his gloves. Next, he gently gathered sections of her tight black curls and held the sections of her hair off to the side so his careful fingertips could explore her scalp. Prax resisted the urge to lean into his touch. She had briefly glimpsed golden brown skin before his hands had disappeared into her hair. Those hands were definitely human and his long fingers looked even better uncovered. 

His proximity was overwhelming. She was almost glad of the distraction when he touched a large tender bump on her near left temple. Pain shot through her skull and she sucked in her breath.

He let go of her head. “Headache to go with that bump, right?” he asked.

“Yes. I hit my head on the transparisteel next to my seat.”

“Probably a concussion. Where do your ribs hurt?” Mando inquired.

“Left side. All the way up. How did you know they hurt?”

“From the way you are walking. I’ll check them, ok?”

Prax nodded her head once more. Mando’s hand slid lightly down her side, pausing when Prax startled. She felt her face burn. Hopefully, he didn’t realize that she was reacting to how her stomach flipped at his touch rather than to the pain of her bruises being pressed. Mando did seem to assume she was flinching because he had been too heavy handed, because he stilled his hand. A moment passed and he carried on with a lighter touch. Once he had felt the swelling, he splayed his fingers over her left side and asked Prax to take a deep breath. Then, with, her permission, he carefully lifted only what was necessary of the side of her tunic to see the extensive bruising along her ribcage.

“Yeah, bottom four ribs are broken. Anywhere else that’s bad?” 

She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry and her voice came out soft and wavering. His touch and gaze felt as if they had burned white hot on her skin. 

“No, just cuts and bruises all over, but nothing too major.”

Mando sauntered over to another crate and pulled out a ration bar. “Eat,” he instructed as he tossed it to her. “I’m gonna give you an e-bacta shot. It might make you sleep a while, so eat.”

Prax caught the ratio bar and frowned at him. “An e-bacta shot? Aren’t those illegal? And expensive?”

He shrugged. “They’re only illegal because some people use them to get high. They work great though. It’ll fix up those ribs and the concussion.”

Mando turned as if everything had been decided and busied himself with pulling items out of the medpak. Prax slowly chewed her much needed ration bar as she resigned herself to getting a shot. She hated needles.

Mando spoke up again. “Look, this shot might really knock you out. Last time I had one I slept for three days.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Rest in my bunk and lock the opening. So you feel safe.”

It took Prax a minute to realize he wanted her to feel safe from him. “Ok. That’s a good plan,” she said softly. 

He waited until he saw she was finished eating and then he returned to her side. Mando held a syringe filled with pale blue liquid. “Where?”

Prax rolled up her sleeve and looked away as he wiped disinfectant over her skin. She felt a prick and then a burning sensation in her shoulder. 

She sat there, feeling no different, while Mando cleaned up the used supplies. Maybe it wasn’t going to work. She should feel something, right? Prax said as much, but Mando just shook his head. Then slowly, a soft heat kissed her face and spread down to the rest of her body. This was followed by a pleasant tingling sensation. She swayed slowly in her seat and hummed her favorite melody. 

Prax reached out and took Mando by the hand. She solemnly asked him if he wanted to dance. Nothing hurt anymore, so they should dance. Then the lack of music struck her, and she dissolved into helpless giggles.

Mando’s voice sounded gentle but far away as he asked her to stand up. She leaned on him, vaguely noting how strong and solid he felt, as he steered her by the elbow towards the small enclosed bunk. Prax barely registered laying down. Then Mando was shutting her inside, pressing the interior lock button as the door dropped. There in the dark on the Mandalorian’s cot, she slipped into a peaceful slumber


	4. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mando confuses Prax by acting like grumpy, angry, and overprotective asshole. And...there's only one bed! What ever will they do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Description of vehicle crash. Minor alcohol use. Minor violence and mention of blood. Overprotectiveness. Sexual references.

Prax woke with a start. She stared at the dimly illuminated metal walls, trying to work out where she was and what was going on. 

Then she remembered. The exterior of her ship bursting into blinding flames as she struggled to manually enter the atmosphere of the closest planet. Alarms screaming throughout the cockpit. Desperately trying to level the ship out for a controlled crash landing but careening towards a towering rock formation instead. 

Sadness twisted in her chest as she recalled the loss of her beloved Comet. Her ship. Her home. 

More recent memories bubbled to the surface. She was on a Mandalorian’s ship. He had picked her up and treated her injuries. Prax stretched out tentatively. Her head and ribs were no longer sore. In fact, she felt great. She was laying on what was undoubtedly the galaxy’s stiffest cot without even a pillow for her head, yet she still felt amazing. 

Prax smiled into the darkness when she registered that the thin blanket covering her smelled like him. Like Mando. When he had skimmed his hand over her thin tunic to feel her injuries, she had breathed in that same warm fragrance. The scent of soap, leather, and metal.

After one more satisfying stretch, she sat up and hit the button to unlock and open the panel at her feet. Prax clambered out of the sleeping nook and headed to the refresher. 

Gazing in the mirror over the sink, she was surprised to see that the bruises on her face were gone. There was only unmarred brown skin along her temple and jaw. She checked her rib cage and saw that the severe bruising there had also vanished. E-bacta was a hell of a drug. 

After tidying herself up, Prax made her way up the ladder that led to the cockpit. The door was closed, so she cleared her throat loudly and rapped on the door. Several small thumps followed and then the door slid open. Mando was in the pilot’s chair looking at the nav computer. 

Prax sank in the passenger’s chair and gave him a wide smile when he briefly turned towards her. “I feel so much better. Thanks for the medicine. Everything healed up, good as new.”

He nodded and turned back to the display. “We’re arriving on Lanta in an hour.”

“What? How did we get here so fast?” Prax exclaimed.

“You slept for two days.”

She stared at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Then she remembered the conversation they’d had about e-bacta being extremely sedating. She must really have needed the rest. It had helped her heal, at any rate.

A thought struck her. “Oh no, I feel so bad. I took over your bed for two days,” Prax groaned.

“It’s fine. I sleep up here a lot,” he said in a clipped tone. 

Mando seemed irritable today. Prax didn’t push for conversation, so it was silent for the remainder of their journey. At last, they landed in a dry riverbed outside a small town. Blue and gray mountains jutted up behind the village rooftops. Prax happily unstrapped herself and scurried down the ladder. She was looking forward to stretching her legs and being outdoors, especially in such a scenic place.

Mando dropped onto the lower deck. He crossed over to the panel by the wall mounted cabinet and entered the code. When the doors swung back, Prax gaped at the ridiculous number of blasters and other weapons that were revealed. Mando plucked her blaster and vibroblade from inside and handed them to her wordlessly. Next, he carefully filled the empty spots on his belt with charges. He seemed to ponder the choices of vibroblades, before finally deciding on one and swapping it with the shorter one in his boot. Finally, he added shells to his bandolier. The doors were shut and locked again. Mando slung his large rifle over his shoulder and turned on his heel. Then he looked at Prax and sighed. The opaque transparisteel of his visor slid up and down, inspecting Prax and seemingly finding her lacking.

“Get your bag and your cloak. Hurry up,” he huffed impatiently. 

“Huh? But, why...where are we going?”

“I’m hunting. You’re staying in town.” He stated this as if it were obvious. 

Prax frowned, both at his mood and his statement. “I could stay on the ship. Help out by keeping an eye on it for you while you’re gone.”

“No.”

Oh. So he didn’t trust her to be alone on his ship. Ok then. Prax was a little hurt about his utter distrust. And she was more than a little upset about spending her limited credits on lodging when she could just stay on the Razor Crest.

“I wouldn’t steal your ship or anything on it, you know.” She couldn’t help clarifying this fact for him as bent to grab her duffel bag.

Mando didn’t bother replying. He just turned and strode down the ramp.

It was a short walk into town. They moved through the crowded market easily. People saw Mando coming and nearly tripped over themselves to get out of his way. It would have been amusing if Prax wasn’t in such a bad mood because of Mando’s attitude.

There was a small inn attached to a newly painted cantina halfway down the main street. Mando jerked his head towards the door and Prax walked faster to catch up with him as he stepped inside. She nearly tripped on the threshold because of her hurry to keep up.

“Inconsiderate nerf herder,” Prax muttered under her breath as she stumbled into the room. 

Mando glanced back at her, almost as if he’d heard. Oh, no, please don’t let him have heard, she thought frantically. If he was this grumpy now, she’d hate to see him when she actually gave him a reason to be annoyed. Thankfully, all Mando did was make a vague gesture towards some empty tables as he went to speak with the innkeeper at the counter in the back.

The cantina was bustling with the lunch crowd, but Prax was able to claim a small empty table in the corner. She sat and flicked through the menu on the table mounted holopad with interest. Eventually, a harried looking server appeared and Prax eagerly ordered a hearty meal of stewed blurrg served with an unfamiliar type of local roasted vegetable. Having spotted baskets of an herbed flatbread on several nearby tables, she requested one as well. She hadn’t eaten anything but bland, shelf stable food for ages and her last meal had been the ration bar she’d had two days ago. As an afterthought, she also asked for a Correllian whiskey on ice to take the edge off of her irritation with Mando.

Prax sipped her drink slowly and watched the Mandalorian, who was now leaning forward to engage in earnest conversation with the voluptuous blonde bartender. Well, at least he talked to someone. Lucky bartender, she thought enviously. Maker, she had to stop feeling possessive of Mando. He wasn’t hers. They barely knew one another. She just had a childish crush that she needed to get over. Prax sealed her intent with a long drink of whiskey.

Mando eventually joined her, settling into his seat with the air of someone who is used to commanding attention. Given the stares of the other patrons, she had to admit this attitude was not unfounded. His confidence would have been really sexy if he wasn’t busy being such an asshole. 

The Mandalorian lounged across from her, scanning the room as he did so. She almost asked him why he didn’t order food as well. Then Prax cringed inwardly when she remembered just in time that he never removed that helmet in front of people. Not even to eat. 

She felt a pang of sadness for him. He sacrificed a lot for his Creed. She respected him immensely for that, but having to wear his helmet all the time separated him from others in ways she could barely wrap her head around. Did he wish he could connect with others eye to eye? Did he want to eat and drink and smile around other people? Or did he feel better and more secure with his face hidden from the world?

When Prax’s plate was scraped clean, Mando pushed a chit towards her. “It’s number 25. I’ll be back in 2 or 3 days.” With that, he was up and out the door. 

Prax mumbled “Good luck,” after him. But he was gone so quickly, she doubted he’d heard.

When she finally managed to flag her server down to ask for the bill, the perplexed youth shrugged and said that the Mandalorian had already paid. It turned out that Mando had also covered the cost of the room. Prax allowed herself to become slightly less annoyed with him for that. She had been anxious about how long her credits would last after paying for her lodgings. 

Upstairs, the chit opened the door to a room that was clean and bright. A large bed covered with fluffy white linens dominated the space. Prax sighed with contentment as she flopped down and sprawled out on the bed to test it out. It was by far the softest thing she had laid on in months.

She unpacked her canvas bag, placing her clothes in the dresser and her toiletries next to the sink. She didn’t notice that she was humming happily to herself as she put things away. 

Prax had saved the most important task for last. Using the edge of an Imperial credit to unscrew the air vent cover above the baseboard, she uncovered a nice hiding spot. She then tucked her most valuable item inside and replaced the cover.

The next three days we spent exploring the town. She collected small, pleasant experiences as if they were shells at a beach. A wrinkled old woman at the market had insisted she try several types of delicious local fruits. There was a sticky sweet bread that went well with her morning caf that she bought each morning at the tiny bakery across the street. One evening, she listened to live music in the square and watched couples dance while children darted among them. She discovered a wooded area adjoining the northernmost part of town and spent a happy afternoon hiking through the trees. In the evenings, she curled up in bed and read on her holopad. 

Prax sank into a relaxed state of contentment as the days slipped by. She truly couldn’t remember when she’d last had so much leisure time. Her life was fast paced, always going from one job to the next. It had to be that way because of them. She needed to keep earning money for them.

On the third day, she came back from an evening stroll to find a fully armored Mandalorian stretched out on her bed, fast asleep. The shower was damp and a wet towel hung on the hook. So, he had washed up but put all his beskar back on. It must be so uncomfortable, always being encased in metal. 

She smiled when she saw that Mando had even had his boots on. Prax suspected that he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. It was likely that he was just exhausted from his hunt. He must have laid back to stretch and relax while waiting for her to return, only to drift off to sleep.

She chewed her lip and pondered what to do. The room was already paid for until tomorrow. And clearly, Mando needed a good night’s rest. He deserved a night on a soft bed for once. And really, waking him up to go sleep in the ship just seemed cruel. It made sense to stay. 

The awkward part of all of this was figuring out where she should sleep.The wood floor looked hard. Very, very hard. She could sleep there anyway, but...it just looked so kriffing uncomfortable. Or she could just share the bed with Mando. They were both adults. It was a big bed. The whole thing was really not a huge deal. She just hoped he would be ok with it. But really, he couldn’t object too much. He was the one who had fallen asleep on the bed she had been sleeping on the last two nights.

She had to admit that sleeping next to the Mandalorian was not an altogether unpleasant thought. She had gotten over her irritation with him from the other day and had even missed his company a bit. He could be dismissive with her at times, but maybe that was just how Mandalorians were. Hardened warriors probably don’t spend a lot of time developing their social skills. 

In the end, he had been altruistic enough to answer her distress call and take her off that Maker forsaken planet. Mando had even agreed to take her to Courscant when he didn’t have to. He had treated her injuries with rare and expensive medicine. On top of it all, he had paid for her to stay at a comfortable inn where she had just spent several of the most relaxing days she’d had in...years? For all his gruff exterior, Mando’s actions were thoughtful and generous when it really mattered. And on top of all that, although it made absolutely no sense, she still found him attractive. Even though she could not and would not ever see his face. 

Her choice made and her heart softened towards him once more, Prax quietly got ready for bed. Soon, she turned the light off and slipped under the covers, trying her best not to shift around too much. She lay on her side facing Mando but leaving as much space between them as possible. She closed her eyes and fell asleep listening to the sound of his slow, even breaths escaping through his modulator. 

Late into the night, Prax found herself half-awake and curled up against Mando’s side. He was so warm. Dreamily, she slid closer to him to rest her head on the soft area between his pauldron and cuirasse. Her arm came to rest across his armored chest. Mando stirred, then reached up to hold her arm against him. Prax sighed contentedly when his other arm dropped down and draped across her shoulders. She drifted back into a peaceful slumber as he mumbled something in his sleep that she couldn’t quite hear.

In the bright morning sun, Prax blinked her eyes open to see an empty bed. She sat up and looked around the room. Mando was sitting in the chair by the window, carefully polishing his blaster with the edge of his cloak. He looked up when she stirred. “Good, you’re up. Pack your things. I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

He stood up, slipped his blaster back in its holster, grabbed his rifle, and strode out the door before Prax could say a word. She sighed and then smiled when she heard herself. The sighing was rubbing off on her. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she slid out of bed to get dressed and start packing.

At the ship she found Mando examining the status display on the most recent carbonite slab. It was likely the one that held yesterday’s quarry.

“Is there a problem?” Prax asked curiously. She had no idea how carbon freezing worked.

“Not a big one. Temp is running a bit cold on this one.” He pressed a few buttons on the status display and straightened up.

“Taking off in a minute.” With that he loped over to the ladder and climbed up to the cockpit.

Prax stowed her bag. The hull ramp started to close as she crossed the cargo area and she heard the engines kick on. “Does that man ever relax?” she muttered to herself.

As she buckled herself into her seat, Prax snuck a peek at Mando. What had he thought when he opened his eyes this morning and found himself next to her? Had he still had his arms wrapped around her when he woke? In any case, she didn’t expect him to mention it. He had probably just brushed it off as an awkward, unintentional situation with little significance. The problem was that it felt significant to her.

The five day trip to the next planet passed quietly. They started to settle into a routine. Prax made sure to frequently stay down in the hull to give Mando plenty of time out of his helmet. She tried to be helpful by taking care of the food and drinks for the two of them. It was tricky climbing up the ladder with a plate for him, but she managed. He always said “Thank you,” when she gave him his meal or took the empty plate, but that was about the extent of their conversation.

Remembering the warmth of his arms, Prax couldn’t help seeking out every opportunity to steal small touches. She brushed against Mando in the passageway and leaned against his shoulder to look at the nav comp when he was sitting in the cockpit. Her hand lingered under his when she handed him his caf in the morning. She was dejected when Mando began avoiding her proximity. He got his own caf in the morning and let her exit the narrow hall before heading that way. His pilot’s chair swiveled away from her when she approached.

Frustrated, she tried to draw his eye instead. Prax knew she shouldn’t stoop so low, but she took to wearing her tightest leggings and sheerest tunics around the ship. He kept his visor firmly trained on her face. At bedtime, she changed into tank tops that were too low cut and shorts that were barely there. Mando started racing up to the cockpit even sooner than usual at night, locking the door behind him. After her shower, she began exiting the refresher with only a towel wrapped around her. He fled whenever he heard to shower turn on. Prax wasn’t vain, but in her experience, males generally found her attractive. Her light brown skin, high cheekbones, and unusual green eyes were pleasant enough. She was happy with her body and past lovers had complimented it. But Mando gave no sign at all of being physically attracted to her. She had no idea how to rationalize his utter lack of response to her advances.

Because the thing was, she was so sure there was something there. Prax could feel a connection between them; it shimmered like gossamer threads woven between the words they spoke to one another. A syrupy languid heat filled the air when they were in the same room together. The space between them felt like a smoldering ember waiting for the smallest breath of air to send it bursting into flames. So why was he still acting so aloof? Mando wasn’t just acting uninterested, he was being down right avoidant. 

Prax lay on the hard cot, staring at the durasteel ceiling above her as she tried to determine what she should do next. It pained her, but she decided to admit defeat. She wouldn’t chase after someone who clearly didn’t want her. No, she would just have to tamp down her simmering desire for him and stop trying to win him over.

At last, the Razor Crest dropped out of hyperspace and soon touched down on a dim, swampy planet. Mando avoided looking at Prax as he quickly spit out the news that he was locking the ship’s cockpit but she could stay down in the hull while he was gone. Prax narrowed her eyes slightly at this. So he still didn’t trust her. He thought she might steal his ship. In fact, he probably would have had her stay at an inn again but this planet had no significant settlements. 

“Ok, Mando. I promise to hold down the fort,” she intoned, sounding solemn. 

He nodded slowly, as if he was unsure of whether she was being sarcastic or not. “I should be back by tomorrow night at the latest. Watch out in the swamp. Nasty creatures in there.”

“I doubt I will spend much time out there. The humidity and bugs are enough to keep me inside.”

Mando nodded again and started to head out. Then he paused and turned back around. “Make sure you lock the entrances. Don’t let anyone in. Just...be safe.” With that he strode down the ramp.

“Um, you too! Be safe, I mean. Uh, take care, Mando.” 

He didn’t look back but waved his hand briefly in response. 

Later that day, Prax scrubbed the floor of the hull and cleaned the refresher in an effort to make herself useful. She almost reorganized the supply crates, but she didn’t want him to get upset about her touching his things. At last, she sat down with her holopad to research the location of their next stop.

She was about to get ready for bed when she heard the ramp lower. Terse muffled voices came from outside. Prax held her breath, her heart pounding. She was alone and without her blaster, which was not a good feeling. A moment later, she let out a long exhale in relief when she saw Mando marching in, dragging a sullen Twi’lek behind him. Then the quarry saw Prax and leered. 

“Hey, sexy,” he drawled with a malicious gleam in his eye. His eyes roved over her body. “Well, well...the Mandalorian sure is lucky to have a sweet little thing like you warming his bed.”

Mando swiftly spun around and smashed his fist into the quarry’s face. Another punch followed , this one to the bleeding alien’s stomach. Prax stood there motionless, stunned by Mando’s unexpected, viscous attack on his bounty. The Mandalorian growled unintelligibly in the quarry’s ear as he roughly shoved the humanoid into the carbon freezing chamber. He slammed down the button to turn the machine on and the Twi’lek’s scream was cut short as steam engulfed him, immediately turning into a slab of carbonite.

Wordlessly, Mando stormed past Prax and entered the refresher. She heard the clink of his armor being removed, followed by the sound of water gushing as the shower was turned on. Later, when Mando came out he was dressed in all his armor again. He wasted no time climbing the ladder to the cockpit. Prax followed him, knowing they were ready to take off. 

Prax sat quietly in the passenger seat. She wanted to talk to Mando but he was in such a nasty mood. No need to irk him further.  
.  
Once they jumped into hyperspace, Prax broke the silence. “How did your hunt go? You came back early,” she said softly.

“It was fine. Quarry was an idiot. Easy to track,” he said shortly.

“Why did you punch him when you came on board?”

Mando’s visor stared down at her. He was quiet for a moment and then finally answered. “He shouldn’t have talked about you like that. He was asking for it. Like I said, an idiot.”

Prax quirked an eyebrow at him. “Believe me, I’ve heard much worse. You don’t need to defend my honor, Mando.”

“I’m not going to just stand there while some low life insults you.” He huffed and rose abruptly from his seat. “Stay up here, I’m gonna eat in the hull,” he snapped. She stared at his back as he stomped out of the cockpit. 

Sitting there alone, Prax tried to understand Mando. Every once in a while, when they were alone on his ship, he relaxed and let his guard down. In these rare moments, he was quiet but kind. In public, he was cool and even polite with those that posed no threat. But he could switch into bounty hunter mode at a moment’s notice. As a bounty hunter he was a force of nature, unforgiving, ruthless, and intense. He wasn’t needlessly cruel, but he was also not to be crossed.

And though Prax cringed at the thought, seeing Mando punch that quarry for disrespecting her made something twist and tremble inside her. She knew it was terrible to be turned on by such a thing, but her body didn’t seem to care about propriety. He had completely dominated that poor bastard. For her. 

Mando pretended he didn’t care for her, but, in that moment, he sure acted like he did. Maybe he wasn’t completely uninterested in her after all.


	5. The Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Mando and Prax have their own jobs to do on Inryon. Mando is feeling pretty worked up though, and when he comes back to the ship things heat up between the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor jealousy. Minor possessiveness. This is finally the smut chapter, so lots of spicy stuff. Read the main story tags to make sure you're into it.

They were almost to the next planet before Prax finally mustered up the courage to break the news to the Mandalorian. She knew he wouldn’t like her going off to do her own thing, but after all, she was neither a child or a prisoner.

She had thoroughly researched this opportunity. It would be quick, easy, and lucrative. So, Prax sat in the passengers chair with her caf, took a deep breath, and told Mando she had a job to do on Inryon. 

His reaction was what she had expected. He turned his head sharply and pinned her under his stare. Maker, he could be terrifying. She felt like one of his bounties. 

“What kind of job?” he growled suspiciously. Prax shivered at the deliciously low rasp of his voice. 

Sighing, Mando turned his chair towards her and leaned back in the seat. He shifted, arms crossing over his chest and letting his legs sprawling apart. Her mouth went dry. He had no business looking so attractive. Stars, how did he have this effect on her? 

“Well?”

Snapping out of her lustful reverie, Prax drew in a shaky breath. She had been dreading this next part. 

“Oh, what kind of job? It’s just...nothing. Just a freelance thing,” she had been going for a breezy tone, but she sensed she had failed in that respect. She hoped he would drop it. Of course, he didn’t.

“Freelance thing, huh? What is it exactly that you do? You never told me.” He was idly toying with her now. He had doubtlessly extracted intel out of many reluctant informants over the years. Prax knew she was doomed but she pressed on.

“Oh, well, you never asked. But, if you must know, I deal in the acquisition and delivery of rare goods. You know, art, antiquities, jewelry, things like that.”

He drummed his fingers on his armrest while training his visor on her. Prax could feel the weight of his glare, even though she couldn’t see his eyes

“Really. Acquire and deliver rare goods. So you’re a thief and a smuggler,” he summarised flatly.

Prax was annoyed that he had figured it out so quickly. She should have known. 

“At least I don’t acquire and deliver people,” she retorted pointedly.

Mando let out a huff that could possibly have been a laugh. “They’re not very nice people.”

“Just because they have a bounty on their head, doesn’t necessarily mean they did something wrong. How do you know they’re not nice people?” 

“Well, they usually try to shoot me.”

“You shoot people!” she cried, thinking of his cabinet full of blasters.

“Maybe I’m not very nice either,” he replied with an unmistakable chuckle this time. 

They sat there quietly for a few minutes. Prax was happy he had dropped his displeasure about her upcoming job. But she was wrong. Mando was just girding up for a different line of attack.

“You’re lucky there’s no bounty on your head, little thief.” His voice was soft but serious.

Prax felt a weight lift off her shoulders when he said there was no price on her head. But after a moment she grew suspicious. She slowly asked, ”Wait, how do you know there’s no bounty on me?”

Mando’s head tilted, as if he was confused as to why she was asking a question with such an obvious answer. “I looked you up. Had to check if there was a puck out on you. This is the Outer Rim. Every other person is on the run.”

Prax glared at him wordlessly.

“And also I had to make sure you weren’t a mass murderer or anything,” Mando smirked, noting her increasing irritation.

“Oh, I think you could have protected yourself, mass murderer or not,” Prax snapped. Mando shrugged bemusedly. 

“You don’t even know my last name! How did you look me up?” she sputtered. “And seriously, you would have brought me in if I had a bounty on me?”

“Yes, I would have,” Mando replied, his tone, regretful but unapologetic.

Neither of them spoke and the cockpit was filled with tense silence. Finally, Mando broke the silence with a sigh. “Look, Prax, high end thieves always end up in trouble sooner or later. With either the New Republic or the people they jilted. Then there’s a bounty on their head and they get hunted down. Consider a different career.”

“Whatever, Mando.”

“Look, I’ve done some shady stuff before too. I get it. But it’s too risky in the end.” 

“Says the bounty hunter.”

“You know that bounty hunting is legal. We have a guild.” 

He was quiet for a minute before adding, “Oh, and if you must know, I cross referenced your first name and species with current Comet 260RAB registrations to get your chain code.”

“Bastard!” Prax cried. “Nosy, preachy bastard!”

Mando choked on a laugh as he turned back to the nav computer. 

Prax admitted to herself that she had always expected him to bring her in if she had a bounty on her head. He didn’t really know her, didn’t owe her a thing. It wasn’t personal, but it still stung. She was more irritated about his pious attitude concerning her work. And the sneaky way he went about getting her info. Ok, she had at least three reasons to be more than a little mad at him. She decided to sit there and ignore him until they landed. 

But while she sulked, she thought about how nice it was to have a conversation with Mando that lasted more than a minute. He had even said multiple sentences at a time. And he had actually laughed. More than once. Well, he had chuckled but it was close to a real laugh. She tucked away the memory of the sound in her mind.

Soon they entered Inryon’s atmosphere. Mando landed at a hanger on the outskirts of the large capital city. He turned towards her. “Are you really going to go do a job?”

“Yes.”

He put his hands on his hips and sighed irritably. “How long will this take? I’m not waiting around for you when I get back. Shouldn’t take me long to catch this quarry.”

“I’ll be back tonight.”

Mando gave her a short nod. He had locked the cockpit again but at least he told her the key code for the entry ramp in case she returned first. 

“Hey Prax? Do you, uh, want to wait so I can go with you later? Just to give you some backup?” he asked hesitantly. 

“No, thanks, Mando. I’ve got it under control.” 

Prax shot him a quick smile to let him know she appreciated the offer. Then she grabbed her bag of credits and headed out on Mando’s heels. She had to go get a few things before tonight. 

***

Maker, she was driving him fucking crazy. Completely and utterly crazy. Mando stormed down the street, pedestrians scattering as he went. No one wanted to get in the way of an angry Mandalorian. 

This whole set of circumstances was really, truly testing him. Fuck. He kept reminding himself that Mandalorians are nothing if not disciplined, but, unfortunately, that adjective seemed to apply to him less and less each day. 

Normally, if a beautiful woman like Prax tried to draw him in with soft smiles and tempting touches, she would quickly have found herself a lot less lonely. But this wasn’t that kind of situation. He was not in some seedy cantina in search of a little company for the night. There were sweet smiles and touches, but he was trapped in a scenario he knew he should not take advantage of. 

He had rescued Prax from a slow and certain death on Katal. He had agreed to give her a ride home, knowing she had no credits and no other options. So, of course, she was grateful. She felt indebted to him and had no real way of paying him back. And that was the problem. 

He was trying to take the honorable path and sidestep her advances. Because her invitation for something more was only an attempt to pay him back with sex. It surely explained why she constantly flirted with him. He could think of no other reason for her to be so kriffing persistent in the face of his feigned disinterest. She was just trying to maintain her place on his ship and secure her ride home. So, clearly, surrendering to his selfish desire would not be right. He would be taking advantage of her. The only correct course of action was to push aside all of his very inappropriate thoughts and try to ignore her as much as possible.

But it wasn’t working. Not at all. It felt like she was on his mind every minute of the day. His thoughts of her ran the gamut from fond reminisces of her admirable caf making skills to increasingly feverish and debauched imaginings of the two of them tangled up together on the floor of his ship. 

At night, he dreamed of her soft, caramel skin yielding under his hands as he pulled broken moans from her again and again. When he had woken up next to her in that soft bed on Lanta, he had been in the middle of one such dream. Hard as a rock, his erection pressed firmly against Prax’s soft thigh, he was torn between utter embarrassment and burning desire. Maker, how he had wanted to wake her up and do all the depraved things his body was screaming for. But instead he had managed to hurry out of the bed so she wouldn’t realize the state of him. He had throbbed with a want so intense it was inescapable. So he’d swiftly retreated to the refresher and locked the door. And although his face had burned with shame, he had frantically pulled his aching cock out then and there. He had imagined her moaning and begging him for more, laying there spread out and writhing beneath him, as he feverishly fucked his spit smeared hand. When he came and spurted his seed into his fist, he had gritted his teeth to stop himself from gasping out her name.

But nothing he did dispelled his desire for her. 

He kept torturing himself with his imaginings. How would her mouth taste when he slipped his tongue inside and explored its moist warmth? What would her voice sound like, sighing and moaning and crying out the only name she knew for him? How would her skin smell when he pressed his nose against her slender throat and breathed her in? Most importantly, how perfect would her hot, wet cunt feel when he buried himself deep inside her? How achingly tight would it be, clenching around him when he made her come? 

Fuck, he was losing his mind.

He squeezed his hands into tight fists and shut down this line of thinking before his pants got tight in the front. Maker, he needed a distraction. Maybe his quarry would give him more trouble than anticipated. A spirited tussle with some armed guards might help relieve some of his frustration. Well, probably not, but he could hope. At last, he arrived at the location he needed to scope out and got down to business.

Later that evening, the sun set and the sky slowly deepened to indigo. Three pale moons hung in the sky. The stars Mando was so at home in weren’t so noticeable here in the city. Artificial lights washed them out. 

Mando watched from across the street as a row of speeders pulled up to the entrance of a large white stone building. Males and females of all species were exiting their vehicles and letting valets park the gleaming machines. The guests showed off their swanky outfits as they made their way inside, waving and flashing insincere smiles to acquaintances. Just like he’d thought, the security out front was thick. Guards stood at every walkway and entrance, eyes darting around while they muttered into their comm links. 

Going through the front was not a good option. No need to alert everyone to his presence and draw that much fire power. Mando stayed in the shadows as he made his way to the alley next to the marble building. He looked around to make sure he was alone. Then he carefully shot the grappling hook from his vambrace onto the roof. He pulled the line tight and started to climb.

Once up top, Mando found the entrance leading inside. A swift kick sent the door flying open. He moved quietly down the service stairs. At the bottom was a door that led outside to the back of the building. Perfect. That would be his exit when he had acquired the quarry. He turned and took the stairs back up to the second floor. It was exactly the vantage point he needed. Looking up the building schematics prior to this had paid off and he was making quick work of things..  
.  
This floor was a mezzanine overlooking the large room below. Laughter and chattering voices floated up to him, accompanied by the clink of glasses and soft strains of music. Mando smiled under his helmet. He had a hunch that his quarry would come along quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene in front of such an illustrious group of friends and colleagues. His visor zoomed in on the floor below. Mando scanned the party goers, looking for the face on the puck that was stashed in his utility belt.

Instead, he found...Prax? 

He would have thought that he was imagining things, but his imagination was not this good. She was right there, looking like a fucking fever dream. Her dark hair was elegantly pinned back, drawing his eyes to the smooth column of her neck and the graceful slope of her bare shoulders. Green eyes sparkled above a silky gown of the same hue; the dress clung to her frame and was somehow held up by the thinnest of straps. She looked utterly breathtaking. Prax moved with languid grace as she pressed a glass of some fizzy drink to her plush lips.

How was she here? Here, at this ridiculous gala, looking like a vision of loveliness designed solely to taunt him. She turned and he saw how her dress left her back bare down to her waist. The view of that expanse of perfect mocha skin almost made him moan aloud. His hands squeezed the railing in front of him until the leather of his gloves squeaked. Maker, the things he wanted to do to her. Every depraved thought he’d ever had about her was buzzing through his mind.

Prax drifted across the room, smiling prettily at other revelers as she slid past them. She walked up to the bar, most likely wanting to refresh her now empty glass. As she waited for the bartender droid to make its way over to her, a wiry young man sidled up to her and said something that made her laugh. He was blond, boyishly handsome, and self-assured in a way that suggested he had rarely ever found anyone or anything that he couldn’t have. Mando felt raw, hot jealousy immediately flare in his chest.

The blond continued to grin at Prax, appearing to hang on her every word. Mando gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to storm downstairs and punch blondie right on that kriffing cleft chin. At last, the gleaming gold droid handed Prax her sparkling, lavender drink. She smiled at the blond and briefly touched her hand to his upper arm before walking away. 

Prax glided across the floor in her strappy gold heels, looking content and relaxed. Then she suddenly walked straight into an elegant older woman who was standing in her path. Prax’s entire glass of fizzy, purple beverage went splashing all over the navy blue bodice of the older woman, who shrieked in surprise. 

Chaos ensued. The champagne flute fell to the floor and shattered, sending glass every which way. Liquid dripped to the floor and rendered it a sticky, slippery mess. With a scream,the older woman stumbled into a server carrying a tray of unidentifiable hors d'oeuvres. The food fell all over the floor, with a good deal of it going down the front of the unlucky woman. Prax had jumped out of the way and escaped the whole ordeal relatively unscathed. While people milled about frantically, Mando watched Prax slip away like a shadow towards the front doors. Then he realized he had been so distracted by Prax and the commotion she had caused that he hadn’t recognized the older woman in navy blue. She was the quarry pictured on his puck.

****  
Prax hummed happily as she gazed in the tiny mirror over the sink. She was already back on the Razor Crest, which had been empty, since Mando had not yet returned. It was silly, but she couldn’t resist a quick game of dress up. She admired the way the emerald and diamond necklace glittered around her neck. It was a stunning piece of jewelry. It even went nicely with her eyes. 

Prax heard the creak of the ramp lowering until high pitched shrieks drowned out the sound of the hydraulics.

“Settle down or I’ll gag you,” Mando snarled at his bounty as he dragged an enraged woman up the ramp. The quarry ignored him and continued yelling curses worthy of a star freighter captain. She had left the building quietly as he had predicted, but she hadn’t stoped screaming since they started the long walk home. He should have rented a speeder.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream rent the air. The cuffed woman almost lept out of Mando’s grasp as she tried to lunge at Prax.

“You little bitch! That’s my necklace! You filthy little-“

She was cut off in the middle of her tirade when Mando abruptly shoved her into the carbon freezing unit and activated it. 

Sighing, he closed the entrance behind him by stabbing at a button on his vambrace. Then he busied himself with stowing his weapons. 

Prax just stood there by the ladder to the cockpit and watched Mando with concern. Something was very off. He had come onto the ship with an aura of frustration pulsing around him. The stiffness with which he moved suggested he was incredibly tense, which was odd since he had seemingly caught his bounty both quickly and easily. Instead of his mood lightening as he settled into the familiar environment of the Razor Crest, Mando was becoming more restless.

“So, what necklace?” he grunted at her as he finished putting his weapons away.

As soon as he asked, he realized the answer. “Oh. The necklace was your job. That’s why you were there, looking so...looking all dressed up,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t even see you at the gala! Why were you there? And why did you just put my mark into carbonite?” Prax couldn’t understand why Mando had just dragged the older woman in navy onto the ship.

“She was my quarry. Wanted for embezzling.”

Mando turned to face her. He stared at her intently. His voice had been full of something strangely misplaced, something dark and threatening. Not violent, but menacing none the less. 

Prax cleared her throat, his strange attitude making her nervous. “Really? Embezzling? Well, I guess that explains how she could afford this necklace. It used to belong to a Travdenian princess. It’s the biggest emerald in the parsec, set with diamonds of course and…” her voice finally trailed off. 

“And now you've got all those jewels wrapped around your pretty throat,” Mando growled.

Something in the atmosphere changed immediately with his words. At any other time and coming from any other person, the statement would have been only mildly flirtatious, a comment to be thrown around carelessly. But when he said it quietly in that deep, delicious voice, it settled over her like heady smoke, thick with desire. A dangerous invitation was hanging there, unsaid yet perfectly clear. 

Prax could only stare at him, her breaths growing shallow. She felt like if she made a sound or moved a muscle, the spell would be broken. 

Mando stepped towards her until he was standing far too close. With him right in front of her, Prax realized how very tall and broad he really was. He reached up slowly, letting his hand hover in the air next to her throat. After an agonizing moment, he lifted a gloved finger and lightly traced the smooth, shimmering surfaces of the gems draped around her neck. Then with deliberate, unhurried movements, he pulled off one glove. Warm fingertips trailed across her smooth skin, moving slowly below her collarbones, from one shoulder to the other. When he reached the opposite shoulder, Mando plucked at the thin strap of her dress. He rubbed the satin between his fingers and then carefully straightened the strap and returned it to its proper place. His hand fell away, dropping to his side as he carefully observed her.

Seconds ticked by. The silence in the hull was deafening. Then he leaned in to murmur quietly in her ear. “Your pulse is racing again.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “You...you do that to me,” she said softly. 

Prax summoned the courage to stare straight into his visor. After a moment she whispered “Does it look good on me? The necklace?”

“Yes.” Mando’s voice was almost pained. Abruptly, he stepped away from her and paced the small hallway. His agitation crackled in the air.

“It would look better if it was all I was wearing, don’t you think?”

Mando froze in place for a moment. Then he stalked over to her in that slow, predatory way of his. Prax felt heat flare up in her core as she watched him. Warm wetness seeped through the lace of her panties.

He grabbed her wrist firmly and pulled her up against his chest. He stared down at her, his gaze smoldering.

“Prax,” he hissed, his voice raw with frustration. “Prax, you fucking need to stop teasing me. Please, just stop. I can’t take this anymore.” 

“And what if I don’t want to stop?” she asked shakily.

“Then you’re gonna find out what happens when you get me all riled up,” he gritted out. 

His free hand grasped the hair just above the back of her neck. He wasn’t pulling hard, but he did tug firmly enough to tilt her head back. Prax’s eyes were riveted to the endless black of his visor.

Mando’s voice was low and dangerous when he continued.“Be very, very careful what you wish for right now. You just might get it.”

He let go of her abruptly and stepped back. “But I don’t think you’ll really ask me for a thing, sweetheart. Because I know you’re just a tease. A pretty little tease.” 

Prax kept her gaze on his visor and gently shook her head. Then she spoke with quiet conviction. “No, Mando. I’m not teasing. I want you...I want you so bad. Please, come here and you can have me. Have whatever you want.”

Mando let out a strangled growl as he grasped her tightly by the hips. She moaned when he pushed her against the wall. His armor pushed against her, cold and unyielding. He brought his forearms up and leaned them against the wall on either side of her face. Mando didn’t relent. He boxed her in with his feet until she was completely surrounded by his body. Prax heard a whimper escape her throat when she felt the hard length of his arousal pressed up against her. Their labored breaths echoed through the hall.

“Oh, pretty girl, I’m sorry. I can’t, I just can’t,” Mando choked out. He groaned and dropped his helmet down, resting it against her neck.

Prax felt her heart sink at the words, but then he continued. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. But I...I just can’t be gentle right now. I’ve been wanting you so bad, for so long. If we do this, I’m gonna be rough. But I promise you’ll like it. I promise I’ll make you feel good,” he rasped desperately.

Prax mewled like a loth cat in heat at his words. Desire was rising in her like water in a bath, overflowing and spilling out, warm and wet at the apex of her thighs with each word he whispered in her ear.

“Is that what you want?” He held her chin firmly and tipped her head back so she was staring straight into his visor again. “Do you want me to fuck you, to make you scream? Or tell me to stop right now. Tell me to stop and I will.”

“That’s...that’s what I want, Mando. Please, I need you.”

He inhaled sharply and wrapped his hands tightly around her waist. “It has to be dark, ok?” he asked urgently.

Prax just nodded, not really understanding what he meant but in agreement with whatever needed to happen so he would touch her. He pulled away from and a small whine escaped her throat as his warmth left her. Mando tilted his head in amusement at her desperation. Then he pressed a button on his vambrace and everything went black.

“Take your clothes off.” 

She shivered at the domineering edge to his voice. That low, painfully sexy voice. Prax knew she would do anything if he demanded it like that. Usually she pushed back when she was told what to do. But here with him, she was quick to comply. Her satin gown came off immediately and she kicked off her strappy shoes. She slid her sodden panties off too in order to be thorough. Smiling, she left the necklace around her neck. Prax listened eagerly to him removing clinking pieces of metal and layers of rustling fabric.

Soon he returned to her, warm bare hands sliding up and down her sides. He moaned appreciatively when he found her naked against the wall. 

“You undressed so quickly. Such a good girl. I was gonna have to tear that pretty new dress right off you if you still had it on.”

Oh, Maker. She had been getting wet from the sound of his voice a moment ago. But now, it was so much better. She slowly comprehended that he had taken off his helmet and she was hearing his real, unfiltered voice. A voice that dripped into her ears, sweet and viscous like deep, dark honey.

Then his lips crashed against hers, sucking and biting and tasting all at once. She hungrily met his intensity, pressing her tongue over his lips and then into his mouth while she tangled her fingers in his wavy locks. 

Mando roughly squeezed handfuls of the pillowy flesh of her ass while his bare chest dragged against her breasts. He left her mouth only to suck and nip at the side of her neck. She moaned as she felt his cock through his pants again, large and hot and harder than his Beskar, pressed firmly against her stomach.

He lifted his head to kiss her mouth again with an intensity that made her head spin. His hands ran up her body, reaching for her breasts. Mando groped at the soft flesh and found her nipples pebbled against his palms. He pinched them hard but licked them gently afterwards to soothe the sting. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered as he cupped both breasts in his hands and kissed them.

Prax whimpered as he continued to suck her nipples and roll them expertly between his fingers. His touch was sending waves of pleasure cascading down her body. Heat settled between her legs, making her ache with want. She let her hands roam all over his torso to learn the feel of him. He was firm with muscle earned from training and hunting. There were scars scattered all over his otherwise smooth skin. She scraped her nails down the trail of hair that led her to the part of his body she craved the most. Prax reached down to palm his thick cock through his pants and he groaned at her touch, his hips bucking into her hand.

Mando pushed his clothed thigh roughly between her legs. His hands gripped her hips and pressed her damp, hot core down firmly against him. He dragged her cunt back and forth, making Prax gasp and moan at the perfect friction. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet I can feel you through my pants. I’ve hardly even touched you yet,” he groaned into her ear. 

Prax felt like she was spiraling out of control. Mando was everywhere. His heady smell, his burning touch. That irresistible voice, the delicious taste of his mouth, his heated skin. All of it was so intense. She was overwhelmed in the best possible way.

“Pretty girl, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name and you’re gonna love every single second of it. I’ll fuck you until I’m the only one you’ll ever want. Nobody else will ever make you feel the way I do,” he gritted out. 

His words made her moan desperately. “Please, Mando, please. I want that. Want you so bad. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it, my needy girl. Be patient.” He kissed and licked his way down her torso as he sank to his knees. Mando abruptly pushed her thighs apart. Then he grabbed one ankle and brought her foot up to rest on the bottom rung of the ladder. His breath was hot against her center.

Mando’s voice was rough and insistent when he next spoke. “But first, baby girl, I’m going to make you come all over my tongue. Then, I think I’ll make you come on my hand. And then I’ll fuck you up against the wall and make you come on my cock.”

Maker, she never would have guessed that Mando would run his mouth so much when things got hot and heavy. But she loved it. Even if it was making her lose her damn mind. No one had ever set her body on fire like this. All she could do was whimper and beg, “Please Mando, please. Do all of that. I need you...please, please.”

He groaned in satisfaction at her words as he slid his fingertips along her dripping slit. He spread her wet folds apart to expose her aching clit and then slowly licked it with his velvet tongue. Prax gasped and grabbed his thick curls as the pleasure shot through her. He hummed with approval at her reaction and the vibrations made her cunt clench up.

Mando licked and sucked her clit until Prax whined and moaned with abandon. He ate her out ravenously, like the taste of her was all he wanted in his mouth ever again. She felt the tightening heat beginning to build rapidly. He took his mouth away from her bud to fuck her hole with his tongue. The pleasure was so intense, she felt she could hardly take it. At last, he returned to sucking and lapping at her clit until she wailed and shook against him. “Gonna come, Mando...oh, Maker, please, yes, yes...” As she came her wetness gushed into his eager mouth and she felt him licking up as much of it as he could. His tongue ran along her slit, gathering as much of her juices as possible so he could so he could swallow it all down. 

He stood up and held her steady as he kissed her mouth slowly. She tasted herself on his lips and moaned at the thought of it. Mando’s kiss deepened and he pressed his lips against her fervently. He held her face in his hands and kissed her so passionately that she suddenly felt tears sting her eyes. Had she ever been kissed this way by anyone else in her life? His fingertips trailed gently over her neck, back, arms, breasts, stomach. His mouth moved against hers as if he had all the time in the world, no where to be but here. But then pulled away as if he had just remembered something. Smiling against her skin, he slid a hand between her legs. Prax sighed happily as she suddenly recalled his plan for her.

His warm fingers stroked her oversensitive clit. “Gonna give me another one, baby? Can you be good for me?” 

He thrust one, then two thick fingers into her and started pumping them into her. “Gotta get you ready for my big cock, pretty girl. You’re so tight, I don’t know if you can take me.”

Although she didn’t want to admit it and further inflate his ego, she mentally agreed that he really did have a big cock. Prax had already felt it’s length and thickness laying heavy in her hand earlier. 

“So add another finger, Mando. Open me up,” she moaned. 

Mando went feral at her suggestion. “Maker, you’re so fucking perfect,” he growled as he fiercely grabbed a fistful of her hair. His teeth scraped her collarbone, just next to the jewels she wore around her neck. 

He fulfilled her request with a third finger while his thumb started to rub her clit. His clever fingers were relentless in their pursuit of her pleasure. Prax opened her eyes wide in the dark and gasped at the sensation. She held tight to his biceps to steady herself, her fingernails digging into his flesh. In return, he sucked viciously at her neck, alternating with sharp nips. 

Already, the tightening in her core started to build again. He brought her closer and closer to the crest of her pleasure while whispering a stream of pure filth into her ear. At last she cried out, “Mando, I...I’m gonna…”

It was upon her like the crash of a breaking wave. And like a wave, it pulled her under and overwhelmed her. She shamelessly wailed and panted as he worked her through it, drawing out every last drop of her pleasure.

Mando had to hold her up against the wall as she floated back down from her high. “Beautiful girl, I could listen to you come all day long,” he sighed.

With that, he abruptly spun her around so fast that she had to plant her hands against the cool durasteel wall to prevent herself from falling forward into it. She yelped in surprise and he chuckled darkly. “I would have caught you,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her cheek. “I’d never let you fall.” Another soft kiss quickly escalated to sharp nibbles to her ear and scraping teeth at the back of her neck. 

He kissed her between her shoulder blades before pressing his hand there to make her bend forward as pulled her hips to him. He groaned as he groped her ass and grabbed a breast so he could pinch her nipple. “Your body is so fucking perfect. I’ll never get enough of you.” 

Mando nudged at her ankles with his foot to spread her legs further apart. When she was positioned to his liking, he dropped to one knee and felt her slick arousal dripping out from between her legs. He gathered it on his fingertips and pushed it back into her cunt. Then she heard a soft puff of air and felt something cool and wet on her pussy. Did he just..? Just spit on her cunt? Maker. He was passionate and rough and dominant and dirty all at once and it all aroused her beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

He hummed and pushed the extra moisture into her. “You’re gonna need all the wetness you can get, pretty girl. Cause I’m gonna ruin this pussy. Make it all mine,” 

Mando stood and unfastened his pants. He released his cock and rubbed his precum all over the tip. Then he spit in his hand and rubbed it over his shaft, grunting softly as he pumped up and down for a few strokes. 

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, Mando. Please, need you,” she practically sobbed.

“Really? What do you want my needy girl?”

“Your cock...please just fuck me already.”

Mando snarled and wasted no time in lining himself up with her dripping hole. He abruptly grabbed her hips and slammed his thick cock into her. She cried out but her wail ended with a moan of pleasure. He waited only a moment before he pulled back and then snapped his hips to drive his cock into her again. Then he started pumping in and out in earnest, setting a brutal pace. Prax was wailing with each thrust and his grunts burst from his mouth at the same tempo. 

He was big, so big that the stretch of him burned and he bottomed out with every thrust. He was filling up every inch of her. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel so full. His cock rubbed vigorously against her walls, dragging over places she had never before discovered. Places that sent sharp bolts of intense pleasure coursing through her. 

Mando grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled to make her arch back even more. This change of position rubbed his dick against some delicious part of her deep inside.

“Oh, Maker, that feels so fucking good. Ahhhh, I want more. Please! Oh, Mando, don’t stop, please please please don’t ever stop!” she whimpered.

Mando raised his free hand and slapped it hard against her ass. “Bad girl, thinking I would stop. I told you, I’m not gonna stop until you come all over my cock.” 

Prax was surprised that she cried out in pleasure, not pain when he spanked her. Fuck, everything he did was just so kriffing hot. She wanted to take whatever he had to give.

Mando kept hammering away at her relentlessly. It was animalistic, the way he was pounding into her. He was just using her body now, using it to seize his own pleasure. The thought made her throb with desire. Suddenly, she felt the familiar tightness coiling up in her core, faster and harder than before. Heat pulsed through her body and she quivered at the edge of a precipice. “Oh, Mando, it’s so so good…I’m almost...” 

At her words, he slid his hand around her and pressed tight circles against her clit. He urged her on with filthy words falling brokenly from his mouth.

Prax felt her whole body shatter. The euphoria of her release burst out from her center as flashes of white burst into stars behind her eyelids. Mando leaned forward and bit down hard on the flesh between her neck and shoulder while she came. All she could do was scream his nickname over and over again. She was awash in pleasure. Unmoored in a vast sea of ecstasy.

Mando slowed his hand and cock down marginally to ease her through her release. Prax was shaking and sobbing as he pulled every last shred of bliss from her body with well timed thrusts and gentle fingers slowly rubbing her clit. “Good girl, fuck, so so good for me,” he moaned shakily into her ear. Her pussy was dripping and clenching around his cock and it made the motion of his hips begin to stutter.

“Where?” he choked out. 

“Inside me, Mando. Please. I’m safe.”

He growled at her words. With a few last hard thrusts, he buried himself as deep inside of her as he could. Holding her hips in a vise like grip, Mando groaned and cursed in Basic and another language she didn’t know as he spilled into her. She could feel his cock pulse with each violent spurt of his cum. His breaths came in gasps and she felt his heart pounding where his chest rested on her back. It took him several minutes to regain his senses.

“Mmm, sweet, sweet girl. You were so good for me. Took me so well and let me fuck you so hard. Let me make you all mine. My good girl,” Mando crooned in her ear as he pressed his face to her neck. She could only whimper in response, basking in his praise.

He pulled out of her and she immediately missed the feel of him. His cum trickled down her thigh. It had felt like he’d cum so long and hard that it was going to drip out of her all day tomorrow. She was glad he had filled her up like that. She wanted the ache between her legs and the wetness sliding out of her to remind her how he’d made her feel. 

Mando helped Prax stand up straight and held her tightly. He kissed her mouth gently and she felt his lips rise in a smile. “You’re amazing, sweetheart.” he whispered.

“So are you, Mando.” 

He chuckled softly. Then he told her to stay put and returned shortly with a warm wet towel. She sighed contentedly as he knelt down in front of her and carefully cleaned her sticky skin. When he was finished, he gently kissed the top of each side of her hips. 

When Mando got back up, he took her by the hand and carefully led her to the enclosed bunk. How he was able to move so sure footedly in the dark was beyond her. Prax chalked it up to his familiarity with his ship. She didn’t ponder it overly much. How could she, when she was so blissfully relaxed and utterly sated. Her thoughts were just drifting away.

“Stay?” She murmured softly to him as she laid down.

A long pause and then, “Yes. For a little while.” They squeezed together on the cot and Prax fell asleep in his arms.

She awoke in the middle of the night and reached for him. But he was no longer there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit on tumblr @mandosmistress


	6. Stars and Planets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after can be weird. Mando gets a nickname. More smut because you know that's why you're here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Bruises. Minor Alcohol Use. Smut! Read the main story tags to make sure you're into it.

It was morning, or at least what passed for morning in the depths of space. The new day was signaled by the steady brightening of the ship’s interior lights. Prax stretched her arms overhead and then started to push back the blanket. Suddenly, she shrieked and yanked the fabric back up to her chin. She had gone to bed naked and only remembered it just now as she’d flung back the cover. It was ridiculous that, although the Mandalorian was the one responsible for her lack of clothes, she was still wrapping herself in a blanket in case he should see her. She scoffed at herself and threw caution to the wind, abandoning the blanket and scurrying naked to the fresher.

A moment later, Prax was smiling softly into the mirror as she studied the marks that Mando had left behind. The red and purple imprints of his kisses and bites were scattered along her neck and shoulders. His iron grip had pressed dark fingerprints into the flesh of her hips. Some spots were tender, but she was pleased with them anyhow. She liked the idea of having the evidence of his passion tattooed on her skin. 

After showering and donning clean clothes, Prax could no longer ignore the stabbing pangs of anxiety in her stomach. Was Mando as pleased with the events of the previous evening as she was? Or did he regret their tryst? She dawdled over the caf machine, avoiding both Mando and her own thoughts. 

How would things change between them? Because one way or another, things would be different now. Unfortunately, they were stuck together on a small ship, where it would be impossible to avoid each other if things became tense or awkward. Worse yet, he could just ask her to leave the Razor Crest at the next stop if her presence became more trouble than it was worth. Prax flopped onto a wooden crate and sipped her caf contemplatively, feeling more miserable by the second as she let doubts fill her mind. When her drink was finished, she scrounged around for a ration bar. She slowly chewed the hard, chalky meal substitute and choked it down bite by bite. Things must really be bad if she was willing to eat one of these kriffing awful protein slabs rather than face Mando. 

Finally, Prax gathered her courage and headed to the upper floor. The ache between her legs from last night really made itself known as she climbed the ladder. Maker, that man had truly delivered on all of his fervent promises from last night. She liked his dirty mouth, but she liked his follow through even more, she thought wickedly.

As she entered the cockpit, Prax saw Mando leaning back in the pilot’s seat as usual. She assumed he had slept up here after leaving the cot last night. 

Hearing her enter, he turned his chair to face her as she moved to the stand beside him.

“Good morning, pretty girl. Did you sleep well?” 

Her heart lightened in response to the little endearment. It helped quell some of her worry. Unfortunately, the amount of emotion she could discern in his voice was limited. His helmet was back on, leaving his words once again distorted by the modulator. There was none of the nuance or richness that she’d heard last night when his lips had moved against her ear. Instead, the feeling that she knew colored his words was hidden away again.

“I did sleep well. Very well, actually,” she replied with a shy smile.

They fell into an awkward silence. Eventually, Mando cleared his throat and sheepishly asked, “Are you, uh, feeling ok? I hope I wasn’t too...too rough last night?”

Prax felt warmth blossom in her chest. It was a sweet and considerate question. “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry, it, uh, wasn’t too much. Actually, I thought it was...perfect. I..um...I liked it a lot.” 

“That’s good. I liked it a lot too,” he said with a soft chuckle.

A minute drifted away in silence. Then Mando took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

“Look, Prax, I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you all night. I just hardly ever sleep with anyone. Like sleep sleep. I mean, I’ve, you know, been with people - “

“I could tell. You seemed very well versed in that arena,” Prax said with a sly grin and a wink. Her cheeky remark threw him off. 

“What? Oh, well, thanks, I guess? I’m glad you think that I, that everything, was good. And you seemed to know what you were doing too. I mean, not like too much, but just enough? Just the right amount. Which is good. It’s great. You’re great.” He huffed and lightly kicked the floor in frustration, scuffing it with his boot.

Prax’s lip threatened to quirk up in a smile at his embarrassed stammering, but she managed to keep her expression under control. She didn’t want to do anything that might stop him from continuing to speak. Although he was struggling to get his thoughts across, this was by far the longest string of sentences she had ever heard from him. It was terribly cute seeing the big bad bounty hunter go tongue-tied when threatened with an intimate conversation. And it was particularly amusing given how loquacious he had been the night before. 

Mando tried to get the conversation back on track. “Well, so, anyway, if you want, l could wear my helmet and we could sleep together. You know, the real sleep thing. Next time. If there is a next time. I mean, I want there to be a next time...but it’s up to you, of course.”

“But I really do have to wear my helmet to sleep next to you. In case you forget and turn on the lights or something. Being with you in the dark for a bit without my helmet, that’s a loophole. No one can see my face. Never. I swore to it. I can’t share my real name either. That’s part of my Creed. I just wanted to explain why things have to be...like this,” he mumbled.

Mando shifted awkwardly in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and seemed to have to force himself to keep going.

“I don’t know if you are ok with all this. I get it if you’re not. It’s not exactly what most people are looking for in a...partner.” He huffed, his irritation with his muddled words evident. 

“Mando, I’m fine with all of it. Really. It’s all ok, we can do whatever works best for you. And thank you. For explaining. And for trusting me with this.”

Abruptly, Mando grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, letting her sideways onto his lap. “Sweet girl,” he murmured as he tucked soft hair behind her ear. The cool metal of his helmet rested against her forehead. One of his strong arms wrapped tightly. around her waist, while his free hand brushed light circles along her back. She knew he was trying to use his touch to say some of the things he struggled to express with his words. 

Prax couldn’t help it. She beamed up at him like a lovesick schoolgirl and slipped her arms around his neck. Maker, she had to watch herself. She was falling for the Mandalorian harder and faster than she had any business doing. 

They sat like that for a long time. Eventually, Prax slipped her hands under his cowl to feel his heated skin. She lightly scratched her nails down the sides of his neck, making him draw a sharp breath. Then her fingers slowly slid just under the cuff of his glove to feel his pulse beating there, fast and strong. Mando sighed into her hair. Following her cue, he let his hands roam all over her body. He slowly caressed her face and neck, then kneaded and cupped her full breasts through her top. Finally, he tore off his glove and dipped a hand beneath her panties to explore the wet heat between her legs.

When his fingers made Prax start to moan and rock her hips, he held her tightly to his chest and dropped down off the chair onto his knees. Mando yanked off his cloak and spread it on the floor before he carefully laid her down beneath him. He looked so impossibly big and broad as he leaned over her. When he picked her up or moved her it was like she weighed nothing to him. 

Mando left his helmet on. The flickering light of hyperspace illuminated the cockpit, making it too bright to hide his face even with the main interior light turned off. He did, however, remove the vambraces from his forearms. “If you hit the wrong button, you could light us on fire” he explained seriously, making Prax’s eyes widen with horror. Unfazed by the threat of immolation, Mando continued with the task at hand, opting to take off his bandolier and chest plate as well before moving to undress her.

Prax started to help him pull off her top, but Mando caught her hand. “Let me. You’re so beautiful, I just want to take my time, to really look at you. Every inch of you. Didn’t get to last night,” he said, his voice low and husky in her ear. 

Mando slowly peeled off her clothes, smoothing his warm palms over each section of skin as it was unveiled. Starlight dappled her soft skin with blue and white light. He sat up between her legs and tilted his helmet up and down as if raking her body with his eyes. Then he leaned back and spread her legs, sliding his hands down the smooth insides of her thighs. Prax whimpered at the heat of his gaze, his touch. His visor dropped down to stare at her flushed, weeping cunt and he groaned with pleasure at the sight. Mando seemed entranced by the view and he watched fixedly as his fingers spread her open for him and played with her clit until she was bucking her hips into his hand and begging him for more.

“Please, Mando, need more, please make me come on your hand,” Prax gasped. She squeezed her breasts in her hands and rolled her nipples between her fingers. She stared at him pleadingly as she let her head roll to the side.

Mando growled at the sight of her writhing there on the floor, so wanton and needy for him. He quickly acquiesced to her request and slid two of his fingers deep inside her. Prax’s eyes fluttered shut as she moaned at the sensation. Mando barely seemed to hear her exhalation of pleasure. He was captivated by the sight of his digits plunging in and out of her, first two, then three. Her slick shimmered on his hands and coated her folds and the tops of her thighs. 

Prax felt the coil in her belly tightening. Her breaths came fast and her back arched up off the floor. He was unrelenting, quickly pushing her towards orgasm with ease. As if he had already memorized her body. Like he knew exactly how to make her toes curl and her mouth fall open. How to send her hurtling right over the edge. The coil snapped. Her release was so sudden that all she could do was shriek “Mando!” as the universe crashed down around her. She clamped down on his fingers and knew he must have been able to feel the way her satiny walls pulsed and flooded with her juices. He eased her along, drawing out her pleasure with his hand until she whined at the overstimulation and pulled away.

He palmed himself through his pants at the sight of her sopping wet pussy fluttering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. As if unable to wait another minute, he undid the fasteners on his trousers and pulled out his throbbing cock. Mando rubbed his length with the slick that had soaked his hand. He started to stroke himself while looking down at her sprawled out before him, chest heaving and head lolling. Prax slowly floated back down and lifted herself up on her elbows to gaze at him dreamily. A sultry smile graced her lips when she saw how ready he was for her, just waiting for her to come to her senses and give him permission. 

“Oh, Mando, please come over here and fuck me,” she implored.”I need your cock.”

Her words made him snarl. Mando surged forward and started to push himself inside of her. He had been careful to prepare her for his size, but despite that, he still had to move slowly so she could take him in fully. When he was at last buried to the hilt he groaned loudly in satisfaction. “Ah, dank ferrik, so warm...so so tight.”

Mando planted his forearms on either side of her head and held himself above her, taking care not to crush her with his weight. He moved at a restrained pace, moving his hips forward with gentle, even strokes. Prax tried to wait patiently, but she started to whine when he didn’t start speeding up or thrusting harder. She knew he was holding back, probably thinking she must be sore from yesterday. It was a nice sentiment, but she wanted more of what he’d given her the previous night. She knew what he could do and she didn’t want to settle for less.

“Oh, Mando, not so slow. I don’t want it gentle. I want you to really fuck me. Give it to me harder. Please, please,” she keened. 

“What? Are you sure, baby? Don’t wanna hurt you after last night.”

“Yes, I’m sure! I want more, want it harder, please, now,” Prax begged, staring up at him imploringly with eyes that were darkened with blown-out pupils. 

“Maker, ok, harder. If that’s really what you want, sweetheart, I’ll fuck you through the goddamn floor.” he growled.

Mando grabbed the backs of her legs and pushed her knees up into her chest. He planted his hands on either side of her and then swiftly hooked her knees around his forearms. Then he sank himself deeper, somehow so much deeper, into her cunt and quickened his pace. This earned him a wail and eight fingernails sunk into the corded muscles of his arms. Prax felt everything else fall away, utterly lost to the rhythm of his hips as they pistoned his cock in and out of her. He was so far inside that he was slamming into her cervix with every thrust. Pain and pleasure blurred together, lighting her every nerve on fire. 

“You take me so good, baby. Fuck, feels amazing. I’ll never get enough of this...not ever enough of this pussy,” Mando babbled breathlessly.

She looked at him, at the starlight reflecting off his helmet and the beads of sweat clinging to the honey brown skin of his neck. He was half man, half mystery in that moment. There were the parts of himself he could give a lover, like his fervent words and strong body. But other parts, like his face and his name and the secrets of his heart, would always stay hidden away.

Then her thoughts were obliterated as he pounded them right out of her head. She heard herself chanting his name, sobbing out the syllables until they lost all meaning.

“You just needed me to rail you again, huh, pretty girl? To wreck you with my cock again?” Mando grunted. 

“Yes yes yes yes yes -“ she gasped.

He punched the air out of her lungs “So. Fucking. Needy.”

Somehow he managed to move his hips even faster.

“But don’t...don’t worry...sweet girl. I’ll fuck you like this everyday if that’s what you want.”

His voice was shaking with the effort of keeping up such a devastating pace. A lesser man would have tired long ago, but the Mandalorian was all muscle and stamina and determination. 

His hips shifted and Prax felt the heavenly burn of his coarse hair and sweat slicked skin dragging over her clit. She squeezed her streaming eyes shut and begged him to never ever stop.

“Be a good girl and come for me. I can tell...tell you’re so close,” Mando groaned as he thrust up against that devastatingly delicious spot inside of her. 

And she did. As if she was helpless to deny him anything. She burst at the seams, flying apart just for him. It was the most intense feeling imaginable. The sensation exploded out from her core and sent pulses of ecstasy rushing into every part of her body. She knew she was screaming but she didn’t care. 

Mando’s words called her back from the heavens. “...so so good for me. Look so gorgeous when you come on my cock, my beautiful girl.”

Then his hips lost their rhythm and the muscles in his arms and torso tensed until every inch of him felt unbelievably solid. His body was eager to follow hers into oblivion.

“Fuck, I’m gonna...Fuck, can I come all over you? Wanna...wanna mark you, make you mine.”

Prax felt she might have another orgasm from his words alone. The filthy things he said in that dark, raspy voice went straight to her cunt. Unlike the rest of the time, he really had no issues finding words when he was between her legs.

“Yes!” she cried desperately.

He thrust into her a few more times before pulling his cock out and pumping it in his fist. Thick ropes of cum splashed onto Prax’s breasts and stomach, creamy white against caramel skin. The cockpit was full of the sound of their panting breaths.

“Fuck, you look so good with my load all over you. Such a good girl,” he rasped, after recovering somewhat from his release. He absently trailed his fingers through the mess he’d made as his breathing slowed.

“So who do you belong to, sweet thing? Whose cum is all over you?”

“I’m yours, Mando. All yours,” Prax sighed contentedly as he pushed some of his cum down her body and into her pussy. 

He scooped up some of the cum that painted her breasts and swiped it across her lips, his fingers pushing it down her tongue when she obediently opened her mouth. 

“Maker, you’re gonna be the death of me. So perfect,” he groaned.

Prax smiled up at him with a mischievous smirk.

“Let’s clean you up,” he said softly. He grabbed her tunic and used it to wipe his spend from her body. When he was finished, he wrapped his cloak around her and collapsed down on his back next to her.

Mando picked up her hand and traced circles onto her palm with his thumb. Prax leaned her head on his pauldron. They watched the stars streak by for a long time.

***  
The trip to Navarro took one week. Seven days in with only each other and no pressing responsibilities. It was just another week in hyperspace on a cramped starship, something they both had experienced many times before, but these days had a magical quality. As if the hours were stars captured in a bottle and held apart from normal life so that the harsh realities of the galaxy could never get close enough to dim their sparkle. 

They passed the time easily. In the mornings, Prax perched on a crate to read on her holopad and sip her caf while Mando went through his daily exercise routine in an empty corner of the cargo area, grunting as he churned out push ups or ran in place while wearing all his armor. 

Later, Mando usually spent his time on the maintenance of the Razor Crest or his weapons. When he made minor repairs to the ship, Prax lent a hand as needed. She sometimes became perplexed while fixing things on the Crest because her experience was all with newer ships. So she teased Mando mercilessly about his devotion to the old gunship. 

“She’s a classic,” he’d huffed, grumbling about her inability to appreciate a fine ship until she placated him by acknowledging the benefits of a pre-Imperial starship.

Prax taught him how to hotwire electronic doors and pick mechanical locks. He was abysmal at lock picking. The small tools and delicate mechanisms frustrated him to no end. However, he picked up on the door hot wiring quickly though, since it was really just basic electronics and he had a good handle on that already. He was pleased though, saying he’d run into trouble with door control panels before while on the job and that this would be a helpful skill. Prax beamed at his enthusiasm.

When Prax asked, Mando taught her how to remove his armor, a task she quickly learned to excel at. She insisted on more practice than was strictly necessary if only to get him stripped down for her own purposes. He showed her new techniques for wielding her vibroblade. He still managed to disarm her every time, but it took him slightly longer the more they practiced.

They played sabacc in the cockpit until he declared she was cheating and refused to play anymore. One night they finished off his bottle of spotchka by playing ridiculous drinking games. Mando had Prax turn around and cover her eyes when it was his turn for a shot. Prax lost every game and needed a lot of help getting down the ladder afterward.

But mostly, they sought one another out night and day, consumed by a seemingly insatiable hunger for each other’s bodies. He took her against the walls, on the floors, in the shower, in the cockpit, and on every other surface of the Razor Crest. Prax met his desperate need with her own each time and they lost themselves within the durasteel walls of his ship as their cries of passion echoed around them.

Mando always fucked like it was the last day of his life. Which made sense, because, for him, it easily could be. Death was a shadow that followed him wherever he went. It stalked him as he earned his credits, one dangerous quarry at a time. Sex was a reminder that he was still alive. 

He was rough and hungry when he fucked her, but afterwards he was kind and sweet, all tender kisses and soft caresses to make up for the intensity of his lovemaking. This gentle side was one she suspected few were ever allowed to see. He would lay on the cot with her and hold her close, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

On one such night they lay together in the perfect darkness of the enclosed bunk. His voice wrapped around her, letting nothing else in. Prax loved his deep, smoky voice. She wanted to drown in his words, his caring, filthy, sweet, tender, passionate words. They were few but made more valuable because of it. 

Lately, he had started using Mando’a with her, calling her pretty names and murmuring sweet little phrases and sentences. It was a beautiful language, made all the more so by his velvety voice and the tenderness of the words he chose. He sadly explained that there were very few people left who spoke the language anymore. 

“I never hear it spoken when I’m away from my covert,” he admitted.

“Then teach me something. Something I can call you so you can hear it more.”

“No pet names. I have a reputation to uphold,” he said sternly. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Prax rolled her eyes. “Well, it doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic. Just something to call you besides Mando. Mando is so impersonal.”

“It’s supposed to be impersonal.”

“Exactly. I think I should get to call you something more personal.”

“Really? Why?” he said, feigning confusion.

“Well, I have let you see me naked at least a dozen times. And don’t even get me started on all the extremely intimate things we’ve done,” she teased.

“Mmmm, yes, please, let’s get started on those intimate things,” he cooed, sliding his hand up her bare thigh.

“Stop distracting me! First, your new nickname. Then...we’ll see.”

“Ok, fine. Beroya.”

“Beroya? What does that mean?”

“Bounty Hunter.”

“No! I’m not calling you by the name of your job. That’s not personal at all.”

“No, little thief?”

“No. Although, see, when you do it to me, it sounds cute. Probably just because of your stupidly sexy voice though.”

He laughed. A real laugh. He was doing more of that lately. The thought made her warm inside.

“How about...cabur? Easy for you to pronounce.”

“Cabur. Which means..?”

“Protector.”

“You’re my protector?” she said with genuine surprise.

“Yes, of course. As long as you're traveling with me, I am your protector. Nothing will happen to you while you’re in my care,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

Prax felt her eyes well up, but she quickly blinked away the tears. She had been on her own for so many years. She could take care of herself of course, and Mando knew that. The thought of someone having her back for once that made her heart swell. It was something she hadn’t known she’d wanted until it was presented to her. 

“Well, I must be pretty special. Most people would give their weight in beskar for a Mandalorian protector,” Prax joked, attempting to lighten the mood. If he said one more sweet, serious thing right now, she really would cry.

“Yes, you are very special,” he murmured as he slowly kissed and sucked at her neck. “So, cyar’ika, can we get back to those intimate things you mentioned?”

“Yes, cabur. We certainly can,” she purred. 

He moaned approvingly at the way his new nickname sounded on her lips as he rolled on top of her and kissed her open mouth.

****

Time passes strangely in hyperspace. Prax distraught because, despite the brief amount of time that she had known the Mandalorian, her feelings for him were developing faster than the rate of their travel through space. She had never been one to fall head over heels for a man before. There had been dalliances and relationships in her past, but nothing as intense as this. And it was intense. He lit her on fire and then fanned the flames until she was utterly consumed. It wasn’t just her body that burned for him, it was her mind and heart as well.

It was so incredibly stupid, so kriffing adolescent of her to feel this way. She knew this like she knew space was black, but that didn’t seem to stop her from caring for him more each day. Maker, she was head over heels but she didn’t even know if this was actually a relationship. She didn’t dare ask him and get an answer that was not what she wanted to hear. Because she knew it was almost certainly just a fling to Mando, a fun way to pass the time. It wasn’t meant to invoke significant feelings or last for very long. He was sweet to her when he wanted sex or when he held her afterward. And he was kind enough to show interest in what she wanted to say and do. But he was primarily involved with her because enjoyed her body. Which was fine. He had never promised her anything more. She was the one who was out of line. She wanted more than what had been offered, and that was never part of the deal.

Then there was the one thought that made an unbearable ache throb in her chest. It was the knowledge of the sand pouring down through the hourglass. Prax knew they were living on borrowed time. Their journey would not last forever. They would reach Coruscant eventually and, when they did, the two of them were destined to go their separate ways. That was the simple reality of things. How could they possibly justify staying together?

Mando was older than her, more jaded and set in his ways. His life had no room for romance. She knew that he led a solitary, nomadic existence full of violence, discomfort and uncertainty. And it suited him. He had made it work for a long time. He wasn’t going to completely rearrange his life for her by making room on his ship, in his life, and in his heart, just to accommodate this fragile thing that had bloomed in the space between them.

Prax knew all this, but it still pained her. Knowing the truth didn’t make it hurt any less. Their lives could not intersect for long. They were two planets whose orbits had briefly aligned, but would eventually keep moving along their different predetermined paths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hang out on Tumblr @mandosmistress


End file.
